Daneel Olivaw 3 - The Robots of Dawn Read online

  “However, if I wished to induce mental freeze-out, I could carefully produce changes and reactions, little by little, over a period of weeks, months, even years, until I had brought Jander to the very point of destruction. And at no time in that process would he show any signs of being at the edge of catastrophe, just as you could approach closer and closer to a precipice in the dark and yet feel no loss in firmness of footing whatever, even at the very edge. Once I had brought him to the very brink, however—the lip of the precipice—a single remark from me would send him over. It is that final step that would take but a moment of time. You see?”

  Baley tightened his lips. There was no use trying to mask his disappointment. “In short, then, you had the opportunity.”

  “Anyone would have had the opportunity. Anyone on Aurora, provided he or she had the necessary ability.”

  “And only you have the necessary ability.”

  “I'm afraid so.”

  “Which brings us to motive, Dr. Fastolfe.”

  “Ah.”

  “And it's there that we might be able to make a good case. These humaniform robots are yours. They are based on your theory and you were involved in their construction at every step of the way, even if Dr. Sarton supervised that construction. They exist because of you and only because of you. You have spoken of Daneel as your ‘firstborn.’ They are your creations, your children, your gift to humanity, your hold on immortality.” (Baley felt himself growing eloquent and, for a moment, imagined himself to be addressing a Board of Inquiry.) “Why on Earth—or Aurora, rather—why on Aurora should you undo this work? Why should you destroy a life you have produced by a miracle of mental labor?”

  Fastolfe looked wanly amused. “Why, Mr. Baley, you know nothing about it. How can you possibly know that my theory was the result of a miracle of mental labor? It might have been the very dull extension of an equation that anyone might have accomplished but which none had bothered to do before me.”

  “I think not,” said Baley, endeavoring to cool down. “If no one but you can understand the humaniform brain well enough to destroy it, then I think it likely that no one but you can understand it well enough to create it. Can you deny that?”

  Fastolfe shook his head. “No, I won't deny that. And yet, Mr. Baley“—his face grew grimmer than it had been since they had met—”your careful analysis is succeeding only in making matters far worse for us. We have already decided that I am the only one with the means and the opportunity. As it happens, I also have a motive—the best motive in the world—and my enemies know it. How on Earth, then, to quote you—or on Aurora, or on anywhere—are we going to prove I didn't do it?”

  19

  Baley's face crumpled into a furious frown. He stepped hastily away, making for the corner of the room, as though seeking enclosure. Then he turned suddenly and said sharply, “Dr. Fastolfe, it seems to me that you are taking some sort of pleasure in frustrating me.”

  Fastolfe shrugged. “No pleasure. I'm merely presenting you with the problem as it is. Poor Jander died the robotic death by the pure uncertainty of positronic drift. Since I know I had nothing to do with it, I know that's how it must be. However, no one else can be sure I'm innocent and all the indirect evidence points to me—and this must be faced squarely in deciding what, if anything, we can do.”

  Baley said, “Well, then, let's investigate your motive. What seems like an overwhelming motive to you may be nothing of the sort.”

  “I doubt that. I am no fool, Mr. Baley.”

  “You are also no judge, perhaps, of yourself and your motives. People sometimes are not. You may be dramatizing yourself for some reason.”

  “I don't think so.”

  “Then tell me your motive. What is it? Tell me!”

  “Not so quickly, Mr. Baley. It's not easy to explain it. —Could you come outside with me?”

  Baley looked quickly toward the window. Outside?

  The sun had sunk lower in the sky and the room was the sunnier for it. He hesitated, then said, rather more loudly than was necessary, “Yes, I will!”

  “Excellent,” said Fastolfe. And then, with an added note of amiability, he added, “But perhaps you would care to visit the Personal first.”

  Baley thought for a moment. He felt no immediate urgency, but he did not know what might await him Outside, how long he would be expected to stay, what facilities there might or might not be there. Most of all, he did not know Auroran customs in this respect and he could not recall anything in the book-films he had viewed on the ship that served to enlighten him in this respect. It was safest, perhaps, to acquiesce in whatever one's host suggested.

  “Thank you,” he said, “if it will be convenient for me to do so.”

  Fastolfe nodded. “Daneel,” he said, “show Mr. Baley to the Visitors’ Personal.”

  Daneel said, “Partner Elijah, would you come with me?”

  As they stepped together into the next room, Baley said, “I am sorry, Daneel, that you were not part of the conversation between myself and Dr. Fastolfe.”

  “It would not have been fitting, Partner Elijah. When you asked me a direct question, I answered, but I was not invited to take part fully.”

  “I would have issued the invitation, Daneel, if I did not feel constrained by my position as guest. I thought it might be wrong to take the initiative in this respect.”

  “I understand. —This is the Visitors’ Personal, Partner Elijah. The door will open at a touch of your hand anywhere upon it if the room is unoccupied.”

  Baley did not enter. He paused thoughtfully, then said, “If you had been invited to speak, Daneel, is there anything you would have said? Any comment you would have cared to make? I would value your opinion, my friend.”

  Daneel said, with his usual gravity, “The one remark I care to make is that Dr. Fastolfe's statement that he had an excellent motive for placing Jander out of operation was unexpected to me. I do not know what the motive might be. Whatever he states to be his motive, however, you might ask why he would not have the same motive to put me in mental freeze-out. If they can believe he had a motive to put Jander out of operation, why would the same motive not apply to me? I would be curious to know.”

  Baley looked at the other sharply, seeking automatically for expression in a face not given to lack of control. He said, “Do you feel insecure, Daneel? Do you feel Fastolfe is a danger to you?”

  Daneel said, “By the Third Law, I must protect my own existence, but I would not resist Dr. Fastolfe or any human being if it were their considered opinion that it was necessary to end my existence. That is the Second Law. However, I know that I am of great value, both in terms of investment of material, labor, and time, and in terms of scientific importance. It would therefore be necessary to explain to me carefully the reasons for the necessity of ending my existence. Dr. Fastolfe has never said anything to me—never^ Partner Elijah—that would sound as though such a thing were in his mind. I do not believe it is remotely in his mind to end my existence or that it ever was in his mind to end Jander's existence. Random positronic drift must have ended Jander and may, someday, end me. There is always an element of chance in the Universe.”

  Baley said, “You say so, Fastolfe says so, and I believe so—but the difficulty is to persuade people generally to accept this view of the matter.” He turned gloomily to the door of the Personal and said, “Are you coming in with me, Daneel?”

  Daneel's expression contrived to seem amused. “It is flattering, Partner Elijah, to be taken for human to this extent. I have no need, of course.”

  “Of course. But you can enter anyway.”

  “It would not be appropriate for me to enter. It is not the custom for robots to enter the Personal. The interior of such a room is purely human. —Besides, this is a one-person Personal.”

  “One person!” Momentarily, Baley was shocked. He rallied, however. Other worlds, other customs! And this one he did not recall being described in the book-films. He said, “That's what
you meant, then, by saying that the door would open only if it were occupied. What if it is occupied, as it will be in a moment?”

  “Then it will not open at a touch from outside, of course, and your privacy will be protected. Naturally, it will open at a touch from the inside.”

  “And what if a visitor fell into a faint, had a stroke or a heart seizure while in there and could not touch the door from inside. Wouldn't that mean no one could enter to help him?”

  “There are emergency ways of opening the door, Partner Elijah, if that should seem advisable.” Then, clearly disturbed, “Are you of the opinion that something of this sort will occur?”

  “No, of course not. —I am merely curious.”

  “I will be immediately outside the door,” said Daneel uneasily. “If I hear a call, Partner Elijah, I will take action.”

  “I doubt that you'll have to.” Baley touched the door, casually and lightly, with the back of his hand and it opened at once. He waited a moment or two to see if it would close. It didn't. He stepped through and the door then closed promptly.

  While the door was open, the Personal had seemed like a room that flatly served its purpose. A sink, a stall (presumably equipped with a shower arrangement), a tub, a translucent half-door with a toilet seat beyond in all likelihood. There were several devices that he did not quite recognize. He assumed they were intended for the fulfillment of personal services of one sort or another.

  He had little chance to study any of these, for in a moment it was all gone and he was left to wonder if what he had seen had really been there at all or if the devices had seemed to exist because they were what he had expected to see.

  As the door closed, the room darkened, for there was no window. When the door was completely closed, the room lit up again, but nothing of what he had seen returned. It was daylight and he was Outside—or so it appeared.

  There was open sky above, with clouds drifting across it in a fashion just regular enough to seem clearly unreal. On every side there seemed an outstretching of greenery moving in equally repetitive fashion.

  He felt the familiar knotting of his stomach that arose whenever he found himself Outside—but he was not Outside. He had walked into a windowless room. It had to be a trick of the lighting.

  He stared directly ahead of him and slowly slid his feet forward. He put his hands out before him. Slowly. Staring hard.

  His hands touched the smoothness of a wall. He followed the flatness to either side. He touched what he had seen to be a sink in that moment of original vision and, guided by his hands, he could see it now—faintly, faintly against the overpowering sensation of light.

  He found the faucet, but no water came from it. He followed its curve backward and found nothing that was the equivalent of the familiar handles that would control the flow of water. He did find an oblong strip whose slight roughness marked it off from the surrounding wall. As his fingers slid along it, he pushed slightly and experimentally against it and at once the greenery, which stretched far beyond the plane along which his fingers told him the wall existed, was parted by a rivulet of water, falling quickly from a height toward his feet with a loud noise of splashing.

  He jumped backward in automatic panic, but the water ended before it reached his feet. It didn't stop coming, but it didn't reach the floor. He put his hand out. It was not water, but a light-illusion of water. It did not wet his hand; he felt nothing. But his eyes stubbornly resisted the evidence. They saw water.

  He followed the rivulet upward and eventually came to something that was water—a thinner stream issuing from the faucet. It was cold.

  His fingers found the oblong again and experimented, pushing here and there. The temperature shifted quickly and he found the spot that produced water of suitable tepidity.

  He did not find any soap. Somewhat reluctantly, he began to rub his unsoaped hands against each other under what seemed a natural spring that should have been soaking him from head to foot but did not. And as though the mechanism could read his mind or, more likely, was guided by the rubbing together of his hands, he felt the water grow soapy, while the spring he did/didn't see grew bubbles and developed into foam.

  Still reluctant, he bent over the sink and rubbed his face with the same soapy water. He felt the bristles of his beard, but knew that there was no way in which he could translate the equipment of this room into a shave without instruction.

  He finished and held his hands helplessly under the water. How did he stop the soap? He did not have to ask. Presumably, his hands, no longer rubbing either themselves or his face, controlled that. The water lost its soapy feel and the soap was rinsed from his hands. He splashed the water against his face—without rubbing—and that was rinsed too. Without the help of vision and with the clumsiness of one unused to the process, he managed to soak his shirt badly.

  Towels? Paper?

  He stepped back, eyes closed, holding his head forward to avoid dripping more water on his clothes. Stepping back was, apparently, the key action, for he felt the warm flow of an air current. He placed his face within it and then his hands.

  He opened his eyes and found the spring no longer flowing. He used his hands and found that he could feel no real water.

  The knot in his stomach had long since dissolved into irritation. He recognized that Personals varied enormously from world to world, but somehow this nonsense of simulated Outside went too far.

  On Earth, a Personal was a huge community chamber restricted to one gender, with private cubicles to which one had a key. On Solaria, one entered a Personal through a narrow corridor appended to one side of a house, as though Solarians hoped that it would not be considered a part of their home. In both worlds, however, though so different in every possible way, the Personals were clearly defined and the function of everything in them could not be mistaken. Why should there be, on Aurora, this elaborate pretense of rusticity that totally masked every part of a Personal?

  Why?

  At any rate, his annoyance gave him little emotional room in which to feel uneasy over the pretense of Outside. He moved in the direction in which he recalled having seen the translucent half-door.

  It was not the correct direction. He found it only by following the wall slowly and after barking various parts of his body against protuberances.

  In the end, he found himself urinating into the illusion of a small pond that did not seem to be receiving the stream properly. His knees told him that he was aiming correctly between the sides of what he took to be a urinal and he told himself that if he were using the wrong receptacle or misjudging his aim, the fault was not his.

  For a moment, when done, he considered finding the sink again for a final hand rinse and decided against it. He just couldn't face the search and that false waterfall.

  Instead, he found, by groping, the door through which he had entered, but he did not know he had found it until his hand touch resulted in its opening, The light died out at once and the normal nonillusory gleam of day surrounded him.

  Daneel was waiting for him, along with Fastolfe and Giskard.

  Fastolfe said, “You took nearly twenty minutes. We were beginning to fear for you.”

  Baley felt himself grow warm with rage. “I had problems with your foolish illusions,” he said in a tightly controlled fashion.

  Fastolfe's mouth pursed and his eyebrows rose in a silent: Oh-h!

  He said, “There is a contact just inside the door that controls the illusion. It can make it dimmer and allow you to see reality through it—or it can wipe out the illusion altogether, if you wish.”

  “I was not told. Are all your Personals like this?”

  Fastolfe said, “No. Personals on Aurora commonly possess illusory qualities, but the nature of the illusion varies with the individual. The illusion of natural greenery pleases me and I vary its details from time to time. One grows tired of anything, you know, after a while. There are some people who make use of erotic illusions, but that is not to my taste.

&nb
sp; “Of course, when one is familiar with Personals, the illusions offer no trouble. The rooms are quite standard and one knows where everything is. It's no worse than moving about a well-known place in the dark. —But tell me, Mr. Baley, why didn't you find your way out and ask for directions?”

  Baley said, “Because I didn't wish to. I admit that I was extremely irritated over the illusions, but I accepted them. After all, it was Daneel who led me to the Personal and he gave me no instructions, nor any warning. He would certainly have instructed me at length, if he had been left to his own devices, for he would surely have foreseen harm to me otherwise. I had to assume, therefore, that you had carefully instructed him not to warn me and, since I didn't really expect you to play a practical joke on me, I had to assume that you had a serious purpose in doing so.”

  “Oh?”

  “After all, you had asked me to come Outside and, when I agreed, you immediately asked me if I wished to visit the Personal. I decided that the purpose of sending me into an illusion of Outside was to see whether I could endure it—or if I would come running out in panic. If I could endure it, I might be trusted with the real thing. Well, I endured it. I'm a little wet, thank you, but that will dry soon enough.”

  Fastolfe said, “You are a clear-thinking person, Mr. Baley. I apologize for the nature of the test and for the discomfort I caused you. I was merely trying to ward off the possibility of far greater discomfort. Do you still wish to come out with me?”

  “I not only wish it, Dr. Fastolfe. I insist on it.”

  20

  They made their way through a corridor, with Daneel and Giskard following close behind.

  Fastolfe said chattily, “I hope you won't mind the robots accompanying us. Aurorans never go anywhere without at least one robot in attendance and, in your case in particular, I must insist that Daneel and Giskard be with you at all times.”